Knockin' on Heaven's Door
by SnowChaser
Summary: Summary inside.
1. Prologue

**Submission Title:** Knocking on Heaven's Door  
**Author:** SnowChaser  
**Rating:** PG  
**Disclaimer:** I don't own them. DiC owns SH22, Guns'n'Roses owns the song which inspired me for some odd reason… I do, however, own Judy.  
**Notes:** Angsty-stuff ahead, and perhaps a bit of ooc for Lestrade, at any rate. (R&R if you want it continued.) And, for lack of a better term, this is a really, really old story that I decided to post at long last.  
**Summary:** After an unfortunate accident, Holmes is believed to be dead  
**Pairings:** Holmes/Lestrade

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**Prologue**

"_Mama take this badge off me,  
__I can't use it any more,  
__It's getting dark, too dark to see,  
__Feels like I'm knocking on heaven's door…" -Guns'n'Roses-_

It was over. The stand-off was really over. She should be happy about it, ecstatic even. Instead, she felt only the hollow pit of loneliness as she watched the medics take the sheet-covered body away from the scene. Sighing, she choked back a sob, with a rather rueful smile twitching at the corners of her lips.

One would think, after 200 years, that a new way of bearing away a corpse had been discovered. But, no. She supposed it would always be that way.

The wind picked up, sending her dark cloud of hair into a crazy sort of dance, also disrupting the badge that hung about her neck. It was the badge that brought those sorrowful blue-grey eyes downward with an expression of utter disgust. She didn't deserve this badge. A true officer wouldn't have acted like a coward while their dearest friend was in trouble. Yet she had…

With a self-loathing grunt of disgust, she ripped the badge from her neck, throwing it unmercifully. She would have stormed after it and crushed it to a million pieces beneath her boots, but no. It was too dark to even see her own hand in front of her face, never mind find that thrice-zedded badge. Finally, with this shocking outburst, she uttered a choking sob.

"I hate you!" She managed to sputter, loudly, into the air. "Zed it, I know you can hear me, you egotistical, thrice-zedded…" her voice died in her throat as she spoke. How could he hear her? He was dead, plain and simple.

Sinking to the ground, she pulled her knees up to her chest, as she had as a small child. This whole thing was her own fault. If only she had kept her mouth shut, this never would have happened. He'd still be here, with her. Perhaps even reassuring her at this very moment.

"Zed it, Holmes. Why'd you have to make me care?" She whispered it into the darkness. He'd torn down the barriers she'd so carefully erected since her parents death. Perhaps it was because she'd always read about him, dreamed about him… she'd made it a habit to study his character in all of Dr. Watson's journals. But nothing could have truly prepared her for his true personality.

Perhaps, from the moment he'd opened those stunning blue eyes, fixed them upon her, and said "At your service", she'd been upon this dangerous course. Hadn't she felt her heart tighten when she'd spoken his name aloud?

She lifted her head at the appearance of light, peering into the concerned face of Watson, who looked as miserable as she felt. He offered her a hand, which she took, fighting the urge to cringe at the coldness of metal against her already chilled skin.

"Come, Inspector. You need rest after tonight's ordeal," the voice showed concern, and, carefully, Lestrade followed his lead.

Maybe she'd just wake up, and this would all just be a bad dream.


	2. Interlude: First Time for Everything

Hey all! Sorry about how late my updating is... anyway, this is an interlude, where I'm still editing the first chapter. Ok... shout-out time!

**ViVi04-** Thanks for your feedback. I actually didn't catch the double use of "thrice-zedded", so thank's much for pointing it out!

**The Sometime Scribbler- **Thanks so much for reviewing!

**D.E. Lewis- **I'm glad you found this interesting! I shall continue, of course. I hope this interlude is as enjoyable as the real fic!

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**Submission:** First Time for Everything  
**Author: **SnowChaser  
**Rating: **PG  
**Notes:** This is an interlude, as I'm still editing the next chapter. (Come to think of it… anyone want to help me with proofreading? I'd appreciate it greatly!)  
**Pairings:** Beth Lestrade, Sherlock Holmes  
**Summary:** First kiss…. :sigh:  
**Genre:** Romance. Fluffy romance.

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He'd been trying so hard all day for me. 

We'd been hiking for hours, steadily climbing upwards, and my ever-stubborn companion had become tenser with each step we took. While he stubbornly refused to complain about it, like a gentleman should, I knew from his noticeably shortened strides that he was having trouble. He'd always hated heights… and, as we were hiking in the Swiss Alps, it made him all the more anxious. _Reichenbach flashbacks_, I noted silently. No wonder he was having so much trouble with this hike. I paused then, turning to peer into his bluer-than-blue eyes.

"Not much further," I spoke clearly, giving him my most winning smile, hoping to instill some confidence. He, however, simply grumbled and nodded, which gave me a chance to study him. He was shaking slightly, and bravely trying to hide it from me, but I could see it all the same. In that moment, I forgot the rules. "You okay, Sherlock?" I called him by first name, hoping to reassure him.

Blue eyes snapped to mine, torture written plainly in their crystalline depths. The sight was utterly heartbreaking. Instinct kicked in, and, much like a protective mother, I reached out and wrapped my slim arms around his waist; something I'd longed to do for a long time, but hadn't. He burrowed his face into my neck, his shudders racking through the both of us. Comfortingly, I ran my hand down his spine. "Shh… I won't let anything happen to you, I promise." Another tremor raced through his slender frame, and I kept up my gentle touches, whispering softly to calm him. A few moments later, the tremors ceased, and he stiffened, causing me to return to my senses. Instantly, I retreated, removing my arms from him.

Obviously, Sherlock Holmes hadn't been much of a 'mama's boy'.

"Oh, zed, Sherlock, I'm so sorry!" My words were soft, anguished. How could I have been so stupid and slipped up like that? His prudent Victorian mind must have been thinking a thousand insults…

My chaotic thoughts were broken as two long, slim fingers slipped beneath my chin, forcing me to raise my gaze to his. He wore a half-smile, only one of his dimples coming into play as his eyes peered into mine as if he were searching for something in the depths of the iris'.

"Don't be."

"What?"

"Don't be sorry. I'm not." His voice was wholly serious. I watched his lips move in utter fascination. They crept steadily closer throughout his sentence, and by the end of it, they had captured mine.

At first, I stiffened at the unexpected pressure, but the softness of his lips quickly took that impulse away. Those delicate little nibbles caused adrenaline to shoot throughout my entire body, as my mouth became mobile under his, allowing him to delve deeper if he wanted to. God, his lips were incredible; the softest part of him.

His arms wound tentatively about me; one hand curving about my hip, the other running up my spine cautiously. With a slight tremble to my own hand, I wrapped my arms around his neck and twined my fingers into the soft, sandy thickness of his hair. The hand he'd been running up my back moved upwards, stroking through my silky dark hair. With a quiet sigh of release, I relaxed in his hold, which he must have misinterpreted, because he pulled away, though his hand remained at my hip.

"I shouldn't have done that," his voice was apologetic and soft… and devastatingly sexy.

"Are you trying to apologize, Sherlock?"

"I shouldn't have taken advantage of you in that manner."

"News flash: I wasn't fighting you." I reminded him in my usual, slightly sarcastic manner. "You did nothing wrong."

"I took advantage of you, Beth! How can you say that?"

"If I hadn't wanted it, would I have let you kiss me?"

"Well…"

"Yes or no, please, Mr. Holmes." I watched his eyes, following his thought process just as though I were a part of it. I knew he was reasoning his actions from beginning to end… then, his eyes lit and those lean violinist fingers tightened at my hip, his other hand caressing my cheek in a feather-light caress.

"Sure it wasn't a Freudian slip, my dear?" The voice was filled with dry humor as he pressed a soft kiss to the tip of my upturned nose. The gesture was innocent, and it curved my lips in a soft smile.

"I wasn't aware you were familiar with his work," I teased, playing with one lock of his hair that had fallen over his forehead.

"Oh, yes, my darling Elizabeth. **Very** familiar," he chuckled, kissing my forehead softly, yet firm at the same time.

"Ready to go on?" I asked him, out of genuine concern. He nodded, reaching for my hand and lacing his fingers through mine, visibly relaxing. He gave me a smile then; not a smirk, but a genuine smile, as we continued on our way.


End file.
